


The Sky We Look Upon

by Eravalefantasy



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Original Character based on game lore, Spoilers, Tribute Fic, some mild canon divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 09:59:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10384140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eravalefantasy/pseuds/Eravalefantasy
Summary: Memories of the beginning, from Gladio's point of view and a single night in camp.





	

Hey. . .Noct." Gladio's rich baritone called from across the campfire.

Sighing through his words, Noctis did not turn around. "Yea?"  

Gladiolus recalled the drive to the Quay two days prior. "Remember that drive along the coast?" The drive didn’t matter, nor the fact that Noct had almost sideswiped several cars getting the feel for the Regalia again, he could see Noct struggled in the way he paced looking out into the night. This trip was supposed to be easy. If the news was true about the Crown City,  what they faced was anything but easy. 

"You mean the one where I nearly wrecked the Regalia?" Noctis still hadn't turned around, his voice sullen.

“That’s the one.” Gladio chuckled. “Good times.” His light tease had meant to lighten the mood, spark an argument– some sign his friend hadn’t withdrawn as he often did when something soured. This was far worse, but Gladio had to know Noct could handle it. 

In the shake of his head and a light laugh, Noctis faced his friend and bodyguard. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”  Watching Noct shuffle towards the tent, Gladio reached out to catch his arm. “I’ll get you there, Noct. Count on it.” The way to Altissia may have been blocked temporarily, but they’d find a way. "I'm not giving up." 

“I know,” Noctis looked over his shoulder at the gentle surf. “I. . . never mind.”

The rustle of the tent flap followed by another sigh confirmed Noctis reached his limit for the night. Gladio wondered if Ignis might have better luck getting the Prince to open up. They’d all known each other since childhood, but Ignis had a way with Noct, disarming his defenses and getting the Prince to be himself.

“Iggy! Got a sec?”

Ignis Scientia, Noctis’s mentor, tutor and friend resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Actually, Gladio, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, a little help here would be appreciated. We can discuss whatever it is while you help me.”

Pushing out of the low camp chair, Gladio scuffed his way toward the camp stove and Ignis’ makeshift kitchen. “You know the rules, Iggy. I lug the crap, you cook and then I sit watching you and Prompto clean.”

“Yes, I’m well aware of our unspoken arrangement, but as Prompto has fallen asleep prior to said duties, I believe you could - just this once-help.”

The half-hearted grumble from Gladiolus, purely for show, faded as Ignis directed him in the cleanup protocols.

“Cleaning protocols? Iggy, is there anything you do that doesn’t have a multiple step guide?” Explanations complete, the two slipped into an easy conversation.

Noctis had always been quiet, he’d not had the most ideal life, but his withdrawal disturbed Gladio. “Look. I’m worried about Noct. This is a tough time, I get that, but unless he pulls it together, we’re in for serious trouble.”

Tapping his chin, Ignis thought through Gladio’s concern. “I will concede his Highness is not quite himself, but even you must admit his behavior is understandable.”

A heavy sigh lifted Gladio from his task. “Come on, Ignis. I can protect him, but this? Everything’s changed, we can’t show up late to a party and have Noct shrug it away. The people are suffering and they need their king, not whoever that is.” Gladio gestured toward the tents. 

Ignis stepped closer, “what would you have him do? He needs to see to the Lady Lunafreya. Until then we serve at _his_ discretion.” Ignis stared back at Gladio, “you are the King’s Shield, are you not?”

“Don’t go there, Ignis. _Don’t_ question my loyalty.”

Shifting his glasses, Ignis clarified his question. “Wouldn’t dare, I merely sought to point out we all serve a role.”

His short temper ignited, Gladio fired back. “What’s your role then? Driver and nursemaid?”  Gladio cringed as soon as his scathing words dropped. “That was out of line. I didn’t mean it.”

“I’ve learned to ignore your more emotional outbursts, Gladiolus Amicitia. So to the task of finding a solution for your concerns, what would you ask of me?”

The sudden formality revealed Gladio’s words stung. “I said I was sorry, Iggy.”

Ignis returned to packing his kitchen implements. “No, you did not, but apology accepted nevertheless.” 

Crossing his arms, Gladio took a deep breath, not wanting to fight. They’d been friends for too long and the fault was his. “I apologize. I snapped at you and it wasn’t right.” Ignis nodded saying nothing. “Would you talk to Noct? It’s no secret he’s more comfortable with you.”

Pressing his lips together, Ignis debated if bringing up Gladio’s often brusque and direct demeanor would change anything. “Might I suggest less barking at him and a little more understanding on your part? I believe Noct not only values your opinion but looks up to you as well.”

Gladio deflected the observation with sarcasm and his usual deadpan delivery. “Stop. I’m blushing.”

Ignis rolled his knife pack and stowed it. “Ah, yes. Sarcasm. Not one of your finer skills.” Holding up his hand to stop Gladio’s retort, he continued. “I will talk with Noct, although I would ask you allow him some space.”

 ____________

 _That was the start_ , he thought, stretching in the early morning sun. His throat clenched and a familiar emptiness enveloped him. Years later, the dawn carried a sadness he tried to ignore.   

Two men stood whispering and pointing at the tall man leaning against the post. One pushed the other forward, stumbling. The man steadied himself and looked up in the older man’s face.

Long black hair, peppered with flecks of gray at his temples fell to the older man’s shoulders. He looked like the long retired hunters, scarred on his face and hands. A long scar crossed his forehead, and another bisected his face over his left eye. The man’s arms revealed faded tattoos but the crest on his belt and dark shirt drew the young man’s attention. His leather vest and black combat pants sparked a vague recollection from years prior.

“Need something?” The deep voice, direct and loud tested the nerves of the young man.

“That’s a Crownsguard crest.” He said pointing at the insignia.

“So it is,” the lack of engagement from the stranger meant he didn’t care for the interruption, but the young man continued. 

“I was in Altissia during the evacuation. I was six.” The man looked back at his friend. “You’re him. One of the Crownsguard that got the people out. I remember you.”

The older man sighed and stepped forward. “Look-”

The younger man thrust out his hand. “Thank you. I just. . .never got the chance to thank you.” The old hunter took the offered hand.

“What you did, what the _King_ did. None of us would be here.”

“Yea. Thanks.” He sighed as the two men walked away. _Gets no easier,_ he thought, cursing the tear sneaking down his cheek. Charissa exited the shop, a wide grin and a wave reminding him to pull together.

“Hey,” she said, seeing the mix of road dust and moisture on his cheek. “Are you ok?”

“Get everything you needed?” He asked, not wanting to answer her question.

“Gladiolus Amicitia, don’t change the subject.” She smiled, knocking a playful fist against his chest. They’d met years ago, during the dark days. Gladio had tried to be chivalrous and offered his help on a hunt.

_“It’s dangerous out there; maybe you should let someone else handle that.” The hunter’s board listed the worst jobs. Supplies were scarce, but with the daemons, it took a certain kind of hunter to clear the road and drive a truck through the endless night._

_The woman zipped her leather jacket before tightening her glove straps. “Like you, perhaps?”_

_She turned around to face Gladio and grinned. “I heard we had a celebrity in the fold.” She stepped away from the board toward the supply truck._

_Stunned, he chased after her. “Hey, wait a minute!” Even now, he was used to stares and side-glances, but she did neither._

_She sighed facing him. “These supplies won’t drive themselves, so make it quick.” She hoisted a heavy bag into the passenger seat. By the sound, Gladio could tell she carried enough heavy weapons for a small coup._

_“Gladiolus Amicitia. Let me give you a hand. It’s safer that way.” He waited for her to offer her name. When she remained silent, he pressed. “So do you have a name or are you going to settle for ‘hey’ on this contract?”_

_“Charissa. I don’t recall asking for your help, Gladiolus Amicitia.” He opened the passenger door and looked across the truck cab a sly grin on his face. He hoisted the weapons back onto the floor and climbed in._

Looking at the concern and feeling her hand on his reminded Gladio of the gift of her presence. She asked after him again, pulling his focus to the present. “I’m fine. Come on, the later we are, the longer Iggy will lecture about punctuality and the impact on his culinary creations.”

Rolling her eyes, she pushed him toward the car. “Ugh, you’re right. I’m driving. First one to the car gets the wheel.” His feigned laughter ended as she shoved the bags into his hands. “A little challenge for you big guy.”  She winked and sprinted toward his car.

“No cheating, Charis! I want to get there in one piece.” Racing ahead of her, Gladio climbed into the convertible’s driver seat placing the bags behind him.

She leapt over the passenger door falling across the front seat. “Do I at least get points for style?”

"Did you scuff my door?” His annoyance an act, Gladio turned over the engine. “Let's hit it, Iggy’s waiting.”

“Hey,” she said turning his face toward hers.

A lingering kiss between them another reminder of Noct’s gift to them all. _A chance to live,_ he thought.

She pulled away, eyes still closed, settling into her seat. “You know Ignis hates when you call him Iggy.”

“Since when?” Pulling the car out on the road, they turned toward Lestallum. “How do you know?” He found it amusing how easily Charissa fit into their strange friendship.

“I asked him,” Charissa explained. “Turns out he simply accepted it, unlike like you and _Gladdy_.” Groaning at the dreaded nickname, he glanced over to catch her wink. “So, are you going to tell me what happened back there?”

“I never got the chance to say thank you.” Gladio began, “I should have.”

Without needing more, Charissa understood. Gladio, Ignis and Prompto often questioned if they’d done enough for their friend and King. “Gladio. He knows. That bright sun every morning is for all of you; its Noctis and Lady Lunafreya letting you know how important you are.”

At first, Charissa wondered if she’d gone too far, Noctis still a difficult subject for him to discuss.

She heard his heavy sigh and then felt his hand reach out for hers.

  _“Mor-ning!”_

_“Hey Noct! We’re wasting daylight!”_

_“Yeah, yeah. Chop, chop,  Prompto!_

_“There in a jiffy!”_  

 

Fin 

Thank, guys. For everything.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a tribute fic to a game I thoroughly enjoyed. The ending is what I would like to believe. Your mileage may vary.


End file.
